


Vermillion Seeds 《 此物最相思 》

by iskendaris



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, The Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Reconciliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marry the Man Marry his Family, Romance, Sibling Relationship, Too many feels, soft, very gentle soft smut, wangxian wedding, wedding fic, 忘羡 - Relationship - Freeform, 此物最相思
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iskendaris/pseuds/iskendaris
Summary: Only in Gusu does a wedding feel like a funeral, Wuxian thought ruefully to himself.Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are finally to be married, and little did he expect that planning a wedding would be so much work!





	1. Chapter 1

_Only in Gusu does a wedding feel like a funeral_ , Wuxian thought ruefully to himself.

Death, rebirth and even declaring his love felt easy in comparison. After he had realized the depth of his feelings, the words had rushed on his lips the first time -- _I like you WangJi! I like you very much and I can’t stop thinking of you!_

It had become a tidal wave that poured endlessly, unceasing in its melody. For a while, he could do nothing but talk. The words that flowed from his lips had surprised even him, how much he wanted to say it, to shout it aloud to the heavens, to the stars, to the mountains and anyone who would listen to him; that yes, he was indeed in love, and he was in love with WangJi.

Even proposing was easy, he had shouted it for all of Gusu to hear. The cock crowed at five, and he sat on Wangji’s roof with a jar of Emperor's Smile and a declaration so loud that Lan QiRen could hear it all piercing through the meditative silence of his daily ablutions.

Wangji hadn’t even batted an eyelid at the scene, being used to Wuxian’s ruckus. He had walked out calmly, his hand held out as Wuxian jumped lightly down from the roof.

Wuxian had been waiting all night, giddy with excitement and expectant for Wangji’s answer with a beaming grin and absolute confidence, with only the smallest of shadows in his eyes (shadows that only Wangji could pick up on, only he would know about the loneliness, the pain, the despair that only he could chase away with each strum, each song, each murmured reassurance).

Wangji said nothing, simply cupping the back of Wuxian’s head to pull him towards a warm embrace, a kiss and more kisses on the mouth that said _yes, yes and yes_ as though thirteen years of waiting, thirteen years of unwavering faith wasn’t enough to describe his answering joy with words.

_Wei Ying_ , Wangji had called him then. So softly, so gently as he tugged gently on the silken black locks. _Wei Ying, you came back to me._

He had drowned then. Drowned or drunk or a combination of both, drowned in love, drunk with kisses on his mouth, his cheeks, his brow as Wangji showed him _exactly_ how much he loved him.

Wuxian smiled at the memory. Well, that had been fun, in more ways than one…!

He had been elated, joyful. Then of course, the clan had to be told. First Zewu-Jun, then Lan Qiren, then the news spread across the clan and outwards like wildfire. And suddenly there was just so much _work_ to be done; a Feng Shui master had to be called to pick an auspicious date, the wedding decorations had to be made, invitations to be sent as they prepared for the first celebrations of many to come.

He had been surprised, although in retrospect, he shouldn’t have been.

Wei Wuxian was infamous, along with his former title as the notorious Yiling Patriarch. His reputation was both feared and loathed and laughed at in equal measure. Even as he slowly restored part of his tarnished reputation, he was still the figure in many children’s stories -- tales parents told their kids to scare them into obedience, the caricature that gamblers and drunkards cursed at and wished for. He was an idiot, he was a genius, he was scum, he was a misunderstood hero. The only thing worth agreeing about him was that he was a constant source of disagreement amongst everyone.

And Lan Wangji? Who didn’t know of the famous Twin Jades of Lan? Sure, he was the second son but still he came from a prominent sect. One of the founder’s direct descendants, a prince in a tightly-knit competitive cultivator community. He was powerful, beautiful, and wealthy in more ways than one. Wangji probably never lacked a thing in his life (even if none of his food had any seasoning or flavour, Wuxian was absolutely sure he never went hungry at night). An unparalleled gentlemen, bested by no one except perhaps to his brother. Even so, he was quite the catch.

Prestige aside, Lan Wangji was _good_. Good in ways Wuxian couldn’t fathom, couldn’t even believe except the man lived and breathed and slept beside him everyday. If a stranger had told him about the virtues of Hanguang-Jun and recited tales of his deeds, Wuxian would’ve laughed himself in incredulity. He would think the person was drunk, or exaggerating because such a good person couldn’t possibly exist. It was too outrageous!

Unless of course, you met the man and then proceeded to marry him.

After their announcements, Lan Qiren had whisked him away to the library. “These,” the elderly man said, as he slammed down a stack of books with the most delicate thump. “Are the rules of conduct and virtues expected from a wife. Memorize them.”

What was the saying again? _“Marry the man, marry the family.”_

Wuxian sighed, ready to argue his way out of this. He had a retort ready on his tongue, waiting to let loose when Lan Qiren shot him a look, sharper than any steel arrow. “Speaking without permission is one of the virtues that perhaps, you could learn.” With that, Lan Qiren turned, a whisper of robes before he disappeared out of the library.

He said nothing, clumsily sitting down. It wasn’t the words that cut him, but the piercing look that Lan Qiren gave him, one that said: _You are not worthy of my nephew. Of all people, you are the least worthy of him._

He couldn’t deny the truth in that.

Wangji’s love was so vast, it asked nothing of him. Not power, nor prestige, nor even claims of goodness. He was a man, he was too skinny, he could never bear the Lan clan a son. His hands were soaked with blood, his soul stained with resentful energies and the path he had once cultivated laid nothing but madness, destruction and death. And yet, Wangji did not waver, nor asked anything of him. Only once, he had pleaded: “ _Wei Ying, come back to Gusu with me._ ”

And what did this ungrateful brat do?  
“ _Leave!_ ” He had shouted to Wangji. “ _Just leave!_ ”  
Truly, he was the worst.

He would never leave Wangji now, ever. Even if he was being selfish to keep such goodness with him, he could never leave Wangji now.

He wanted to do good by Wangji, give him and his clan the wedding they deserved even if he wasn’t worthy of it. And if this wedding made Wangji happy, what was a couple of days compared to thirteen years of suffering? It was impossible to compare, so he would just grin and bear it.  

Wuxian sighed, picking up the calligraphy brush with mournful expression. If his hand trembled, he took no notice of it.

After the first afternoon, he went diligently every afternoon to the library. If Wangji was surprised at his newfound devotion to copying scripts, he said nothing except for the tiny, pleased smile that hovered over the edges of his stern lips. A kiss that was barely a kiss, a mere brush of lips on his brow before WuXian left each day.

It was boring and utterly useless, Wuxian was sure that these proverbs hadn’t been updated in the last three hundred years, nay at least a several millennia -- but he wrote them without complaint. His fingers smelled like ink stone and paper, the black marks on his fingernails from a different type of taint. His neck hurt from bending over and his wrist cramped from all that goddamn writing. Seriously, did he die and reincarnate only to suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome?

Wuxian sighed. He was sighing a lot more often now. Sighing and sighing, he’ll soon become a wrinkled old man with all his long sighs. Maybe when he’s as old as Lan Qiren, he’ll be the one yelling at youngsters to recite lessons of virtue, and smack their unruly bottoms with the back of his flute.

“You-!!!” He’ll yell crankily. “When I was younger I copied the rules ten times! Ten times! I even copied the books on marriage virtues, just for you-!!”

He sighed again, lost in his daydream. Even if they couldn’t have biological kids, they could always adopt. After all, Sizhui turned out so well that soon people would be sending their sons for them to cultivate, and they then would have so many kids that they wouldn’t even know what to do with them all. Start a sports team maybe? A music band? They could tour the cities, playing music and exorcising corpses at the same time. It would be really cool, like some fantasy novel.

But really, Wuxian knew why he was here every afternoon. He didn’t copy these verses for daydreams, he copied them for a glimpse of Wangji’s smile.

People who didn’t know Wangji would call him stoic, icy even. If they were being polite, they would say he was taciturn, or spoke only with considered weight. If they were being cruel, they would say his presence so quiet he could be invisible, his frosty demeanour placed him as godlike, but unreachable, untouchable, _unfriendly_. Who wanted to be friends with someone as distant as an immortal?

Wuxian knew better, the rush of words that came easily to Wangji’s lips at the quiet hours of the night. Combing through his hair, washing his face, Wangji would talk, ask him things. _Look at you, did you drink too much again? Did you fall? You got a scrape on your knee. Here, let me take care of it. Sit still._

Words and more words flowed around him, laving his love-starved heart, the affection so sweet that he could never get tired of hearing him say over and over again _Wei Ying... Wei Ying... Wei Ying._ It washed over him, all doubts and fears of being abandoned disappearing as he was curled protectively inside Wangji’s embrace. How could anyone call this man anything but warm?

“I’m home.” Wuxian crossed the threshold, sliding his arms around his lover’s neck. “Missed me?”

“Mmm.” Wangji laid his brush down, grasping at Wuxian’s wrists. He frowned at the ink stained fingers, carefully interlocking them with his own.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan, I didn’t dirty your robes with ink.” Wuxian wiggled his fingers. “See? The ink is dry.”

“Mmmm... not the ink.” Wangji caught his wrist, rotating so his palm faced upwards. “You’ve been writing so much, you have blisters on your thumb.”

“It’s alright, it’s just a small thing. Besides-” Wuxian’s voice took a teasing note. “Don’t you have plenty? I’m sure I could find identical marks on every hand in Gusu.”

“My hands are hardened though,” Wangji commented thoughtfully. “But yours…” He cradled Wuxian’s hand. “You’re not used to it, you don’t need to push yourself so hard.”

“I want to.” _For you._

“I know.” Wangji smiled then, the same small smile that Wuxian would never tire of. It started at the corners of his lips, then slowly curling upwards like the lotus blossoms he loved as a child, unfurling towards the sun. “Still.” Wangji bent down, kissing his knuckles and finally, the center of his palm. “Still, as long as it’s you, it’s alright.”

_Having you is enough._ Wuxian heard his words, loud and clear. His heart caught in his throat, a warmth spreading under his skin, the tension unwinding as an old, old fear unclenched itself.

“Lan Zhan! You can’t say things like this, you’ll just make me cry.” He said loudly, a fake sniffle covering his real one.

“Then you should cry.”

“What if I said I wanted to elope?” Wuxian meant it as a joke, but the grip on his hand tightened.

“Then we’ll elope.” Wangji turned around, pulling WuXian down until the other man was settled in his lap. “Wei Ying, it’s alright.”

“What’s alright?” Wuxian looked up at his lover in confusion. “Don’t you want the wedding? We already have the dates and invites sent out and we even sent one to Yunmeng even though--”

Wangji silenced him with a kiss, pouring his love and frustration. When they broke apart, some of the tension eased out of Wuxian, but not all. He loved WuXian, but sometimes words were needed when his actions couldn’t convey the nuance of his feelings.

“Wei Ying,” He considered his words carefully. “Wei Ying, sometimes it’s alright to be selfish.”

Wuxian’s eyes widened, his eyebrows rising so high they disappeared into his hair. “Selfish?”

“Yes.” Wangji breathed, tangling their hands together again. “You give your smiles so easily to everyone, you want to change the world, you want to make people happy, so you give everything away…..”

“But?” Wuxian prompted, trying to see where the conversation was going.

“But.” Wangji’s head dipped in acknowledgement, kissing his nape. “You don’t have to give anything to me, Wei Ying. I don’t want anything from you, only you.”

“Lan Zhan….”

“I won’t abandon you. You won’t lose me. So, you don’t need to give everything away, okay?”

And there is was, this old old fear. So old, he couldn’t remember a time without it. Fear that wrapped around him, driving him into feats of fearlessness. It was never about having courage, only fear.

Fear that chased him down the streets of hunger and hopelessness, dogs nipping on his heels even as he snatched and scavenged for his next meal. Fear at the back of his mouth, thick and heavy as bile thrown up at the bodies of Jiang’s disciples piled high, mountains of slain with their blank, unseeing eyes.

The boys he flew his kite with, the friends he shared lotus seeds, their youthful laughter still ringing in his ears as his foster parents laid broken and bleeding before him, his best friend with madness behind his eyes and they were running and running and even as he tried to save them, to keep his promise and protect him; his body thrown in the burial mound, his golden core gone and there was nothing but fear coursing through his veins -- a hand reaching upwards, the same child’s hand that yearned for his parents; all he wanted! All he wanted was to live!

_Let me live,_ he spoke wordlessly with imploring eyes. _Love me!_

And the power that answered him, a simmering rage of malice and resentment, fueled by his own despair that lead him down the path of destruction and demonic cultivation.

He turned away, spurning Wangji’s song that eventually answered his plea. By then, it was already too late. He had already said the words he never meant, lying words, deceitful words, cruelty and malice written on his smiles as the world around him burned and collapsed into oblivion.

In the darkest hours alone, Wuxian was grateful for his death. He wished fiercely to take the thirteen years of loneliness away from Wangji, and yet… Dying had given him the release he craved, a freedom from fear.

_Let me ask you a question…..do you really dislike me?_  
_Lan Zhan, are you listening? Young Master Lan, Second Brother Lan---  
Please, won’t you just look at me?_

Maybe Wangji had always known, that WuXian’s words and his actions were never the same thing. Wangji had his own loneliness, a mother hidden, a father non-existent; abandoned and neglected in his own way.

Oh, Wangji was loved the way Wuxian would never know of, the surety of it in his brother’s warmth, his uncle’s prickly protectiveness, his clan and his kin. His name, his identity as a Lan had protected him from the harsh reality. And yet, it was the same name, the same identity as a Lan that pushed people away, an isolating glamour that sprung forth a loneliness like a mountain lake, cold and fathomlessly blue in its own stillness.

Perhaps that was why they had met that first night. Destiny in the moon, wine in his arms and he had always tried to catch Wangji’s attention ever after, craving his eyes, his stare, his unwavering gaze: _Look at me! See me!_

Perhaps Wangji had always known, ever since. Wuxian’s heart swelled, aching. How long had Wangji loved him?

“Lan Zhan…..Don’t look at me, Lan Zhan.” Wuxian murmured softly, pressing his face against Wangji’s shoulder. “Don’t look at me now.”

Wangji said nothing, stroking his back as his shoulders heaved and shuddered as he wept. Old fears, old sorrows, old tears fell soaking into his lover’s robe, the white stained grey with sadness. Each time he was certain he was empty of tears,  Wangji’s arms would wrap around him around, safe and secure and steady and then he would cry more: mourning for the child he was, the grandmaster he became and finally the man in the mountain cave who died; friendless, despairing and alone.

He cried his regrets, he cried for his love, he cried for his family, for the deaths wrought and was made to carry, he cried and cried until his heart ached from the emptiness, hollowing him out until his head hurt from the lightness of being free. He was alive. He was loved. He was still free.

“Lan Zhan,” Wuxian swallowed, his voice still sounding thick with tears. “Lan Zhan,” He tried again, it came out better. A bit of his old swagger still in there. “You didn’t peek, did you?”

“No.” Wangji’s voice was steadfast, his hand still stroking Wuxian’s back soothingly. “Better?”

“Lan Zhan, will you still love me even if my eyes are ugly?” Wuxian sniffed, wiping his face on Wangji’s sleeve. “Now if you see me, will I look like an ugly monster with my swollen eyes?” Wuxian tucked his head under Wangji’s chin, tugging the man’s hair. “Lan Zhan, look at me, are my eyes ugly now?”

Gleaming golden eyes looked down at him thoughtfully, taking in his reddened nose and wet eyes. “You’re not ugly.” Wangji kissed his nose, then his eyes, then his flushed cheeks. “You’re never ugly to me. But-”

“But?” Wuxian peered upwards. “Lan Zhan, what is it?”

“But if you’re concerned, then maybe you should sleep.” Wangji said, his flat tone betrayed by the twinkle in his eye, and the soft upturn of his lips. “Up now, you should wash your face and bathe before you sleep.”

“Bathe with me?” WuXian’s hand curled around his robe unconsciously. “Lan Zhan, stop working now and take a bath with me?”

“Of course.” Their hands slipped easily into each other, bodies moving side by side as they stepped together. The time spent journeying had given an unconscious ease of each other’s space, as though they were both the Sun and the Moon, orbiting around the same loving Earth.

Wangji’s hand tugged against Wuxian’s, drawing him close, soft hands making quick work of their robes, a handful of sweet herbs scattered on the hot water and they sat together in the wooden tub, bathing. Quiet words murmured as they washed, Wuxian willingly closing his eyes as Wangji combed his hair. He had spent his life taking care of others, first to the Jiang family, then to the last Wen survivors, and now he would readily submit himself to Wangji’s care.

“Lan Zhan…” Wuxian said, his voice barely above a whisper, the trickle of water poured over his hair. “Lan Zhan, are you listening?”

“Mm, what is it?” He heard a bottle being opened, something being poured in his hair. “Close your eyes Wei Ying, shampoo.”

“Okay, but I can talk right?” Wuxian continued without waiting for a reply. “Lan Zhan, did you really send those invitations to Yunmeng?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?” There was a plaintive, almost pouting tone in WuXian’s voice as he sloshed the water around. “Jiang Cheng hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, and you know that.”

“Okay he doesn’t hate _hate_ me anymore, but he definitely doesn’t like me.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because--” Wuxian caught himself. _Because he’s jealous. Because his father liked me more. Because his mother hated and resented me for it. Because I killed his sister. Because I brought doom to his family. Because I exist._ He paused, trying again. “Because, well, because--”

“Because you are brothers.” Wangji’s voice finished for him.

Wuxian’s eyes flew open. “What! What do you mean?! Ow, the soap! Oh!” He blinked again, Wangji wiping the shampoo from his face as he pressed his hands on Wuxian’s shoulders, the pressure letting him know he was there. _Sit still_ , he seemed to say. Wuxian said nothing, leaning back towards Wangji’s careful ministrations.

“Brothers will always fight, and both of you are so stubborn.” Wangji tsked.

“Even you and Zewu-Jun fight?” WuXian said in disbelief. “What would people say, the Twin Jades fighting!

“Of course we’ve fought before, we’re humans and we’re brothers. We can’t always agree. Even as much as I love you, Wei Ying, we’ve also fought before. Fighting and loving are not so different.”

“It’s not the same though, I love you--” Wuxian said, sinking lower into the bath until the water brushed against his mouth. He blew bubbles on the surface defiantly.

“And I love you too, Wei Ying. Going to wash the soap now, so don’t open your eyes.” Wangji’s hand covered his eyes, pouring the clean water gently rinsing. “It’s not exactly the same, but if you didn’t care for him, you won’t be fighting with each other, would you?”

Wangji didn’t wait for Wuxian’s response, taking advantage of the water to continue on. “So I sent Jiang Wanyin and the Jiang sect an invitation on your behalf.”

“What?! Why--” Wuxian’s eyes flew open, knocking Wangji’s arm away. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Because you won’t do it, so I’ll do it for you.”

“But I…Lan Zhan.” Wuxian looked helplessly at his lover. “What if….?”

What if he comes?  
_What if he doesn’t come?  
_What do I do, Lan Zhan? Tell me what to do.

“Just be yourself, Wei Ying. Just being yourself, is enough.” Wangji tucked a wet curl behind his ear. “On our wedding day, you will wear your red robes. You will be beautiful in them. You will pour Lan Qiren-Shifu his tea and he will drink it. You will pour Xiong-Zhang his tea, and he will drink it. And then-” Wangji paused, his hand drifting to cup Wuxian’s face, his thumb stroking against his lips. “Then my family will be our family, and you will be my husband, and I will be yours, always.”

Wuxian looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Always?” He whispered. _Don’t ignore me. Don’t leave me. Don’t abandon me alone._

“Always.” _Never. I will never abandon you alone._

Wuxian tried to smile, but it came out choked, a small sob caught even as he laughed. “See, you say such things Lan Zhan, how can I not love you?” He wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, pressing their bodies closer until they were chest to chest. “Even before our wedding day, you’re already making me cry.”

Wangji didn’t answer, his hand cradling Wuxian’s face tenderly, brushing away the wet clinging strands to lean in for a kiss. Their mouths opened to taste, until the world seemed to fall away, vanishing except for the breaths exchanged between lips. His tongue slipped in, sipping sweetness from Wuxian’s mouth, swiping his lower lip and nibbling gently until the other man moaned, drunk from Wangji’s all-consuming kiss.

“Lan Zhan,” Wuxian said breathily, crawling over his lap, sitting up with the bathwater sloshing at the sides. “Lan Zhan, I love you.” He wrapped his arms around Wangji’s neck, pulling him close.

A brief smile flitted across Wangji’s face, the hand that was cradling WuXian’s face slide down to caress his back to hold him. “That’s good.” He pressed his cheek against Wuxian’s damp chest, the sound of Wuxian’s heartbeat strong and comforting and _real_ , he could weep at the realness of it, but not today. Today was for Wei Ying.

Wuxian looked down, a small secret smile, his hands tangling in those inky locks he loved as though he knew what Wangji was thinking. He huffed a little, letting himself be pulled closer, enjoying their embrace.

“Lan Zhan….” He whined playfully, twirling a strand of hair around his fingers. “The water is getting a bit cold, won’t you warm me up?” He batted his lashes for good measure.

“Hm.” Wuxian found himself scooped up into Wangji’s arms, dried and bundled up Wangji’s cloud-white robes before being settling on their bed.

_Really, Lan Zhan is too adorable_ , Wuxian thought to himself, tugging the large robe closer around himself. Even going so far as dressing him in his robes, as though he wasn’t being obvious enough….!

Wuxian chuckled, lashes lowered as he watched Wangji dry himself, the sleek muscles gleaming in the low light, the breadth of his shoulders down his back, tapering to the slim waist. It never felt to take his breath away. It was incredible, how beautiful Wangji was and yet the man wore his beauty so gracefully that it was always such a surprise to realize it all over again.

Even the scars he carried – a memory sparking in his mind: _Don’t say sorry; Don’t say thank you_ Wangji had said, pressing a finger against his lips before he could even utter his remorse. _I don’t regret them. A reminder. For you_.

He didn’t say anything back then. Now, seeing them again, he wanted to kiss them, to kiss the scars on Wangji’s back and kiss his grief and loneliness away and remind him that they were real, he was real and he was going to burn away all the sadness and lift Wangji up because Wangji was so good, so good to him.

Maybe he didn’t deserve someone so good as Wangji but he was going to do his best, and love him harder and fiercer like a blazing sun until Wangji forgot his pain, and looked at him forever.

“Lan Zhan…” He drew his shoulder upwards, the robes opened enticingly, dark hair spilling over his bare shoulder as he stared at his lover with lidded eyes. “ Lan Zhan, won’t you come here and kiss me?” Wuxian said, his voice low and seductive in its coquetry. “ _Lan er ge ge_ , come kiss me.”

He watched in anticipation as Wangji strode over to him, uncaring that his robe was left untied. “So demanding.” Wangji’s breath ghosted against his skin, a fall of silky black hair sheltering them like a curtain into their own world. “So noisy.”

A hand pushed against his shoulder and Wuxian fell on their bed, the cloud-white robes fluttering around him like butterfly wings as he was pinned, pressed down by Wangji’s weight. Wuxian arched his back, feeling of their bodies pressing closer, damp skin sliding on damp skin, the warmth of the bath clinging on like a second skin.

Wuxian moaned, Wangji’s legs tangled against his, his knee rubbing slowly, deliberately over his groin. Pleasure suffused his skin, sweeter than honey until the air was rich with sounds, gasping and sighing as he breathed the smoke-rich fragrance of sandalwood over Wangji’s skin. He was being kissed, his mouth swollen and red and more kisses.

Kisses down the slim column of his neck as Wuxian had offered himself, turning his head to the side as he willingly gave himself over to Wangji’s kisses, trailing down, the robes -- once soft and comforting, now a silken obstruction; and pushed aside until their bodies met, finally, skin to skin and he groaned in the sensual bliss.

He loved sex with Wangji, breathing the smoke-rich fragrance of sandalwood over Wangji’s skin, until he couldn’t breathe anymore -- breathless and panting with pleasure. There was nothing he would ever change about this intimacy. Loving Wangji, wanting him, living with him, this was his to have, this was his to love and now, as he kissed Wangji back as fiercely as he could, at last, he could start to believe that he too, deserved this love too.

“At first, you look like you wanted it rough,” Wangji commented, pushing his legs apart with easy strength. _Wangji has beautiful hands_ , Wuxian thinks in a daze. He could feel the warmth of his palms pressed against his thighs, the sword calluses hardened on the pads of his fingers, years and years of guqin layered over the toughened skin. He panted softly, mouth open as he clutched the sheets in anticipation.

“--But,” Wangji paused, a small private smile teasing on his lips. “But you always did like it a bit softer than I expected.”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Wuxian felt his heart sutter, the usual quicksilver words falling clumsily from his lips. “I could--”

Wangji didn’t respond, his palms curved over Wuxian’s hips, his thumbs pressing in circles over Wuxian’s buttocks, firmly massaging. Slow and firm, then sliding down towards his inner thighs, the same firm touch, pushing against the tense muscles until they yielded under his gentle caress.

Sweat beaded Wuxian’s brow as his chest heaved, trying to breathe. It was unbearable, how he felt like sinking, boneless and limp under the surety of Wangji’s deliberate fondling, and yet the undercurrent of tension as his senses were buzzed with the promise of sex. Teetering at the brink of too much, he opened his mouth to beg for release when Wangji spread his buttocks apart, and he groaned at the featherlight sensation of Wangji’s fingertip pressed against his entrance, circling, and petting.

He was going to die, he was sure of it. He was going to die from how good it was, how good Wangji was and there was nothing better than dying like this.

“Lan….L-Lan..” His voice cracked over Wangji dribbled scented oil over his hands, warming them before rubbing it over his cleft. He could feel Wangji’s fingers, every press of his hand, every whorl until he was sure that his skin would be covered with Wangji’s fingerprints, smudged and indented over and over as though his skin would be remade with Wangji’s touch. He pressed his head against the pillow, clutching and twisting the sheets uselessly. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t, not with Wangji holding him firmly down. He couldn’t even rub himself against the sheets, even if his cock strained desperately against the silk, longing for friction, longing for release.

“Lan Zha- an….” He tried again, even as the fingers slid inside him. One, then two. The same slow, relentless pace as Wangji thoroughly prepared him, opening him inch by inch until he felt feverish, coaxed open like a blossom unfurling under the heat of their desire, his skin flushed and burning. He ached upwards, mindlessly reaching for release, feeling empty even with Wangji fingerfucking him expertly. Every single one of his senses were fully aware, he could feel the trickle of oil down his ass, spreading lewdly around his thighs, his skin gleaming and glistening, the _shlick slurp shlick_ of Wangji’s fingers diving in and out of his willing body, dripping obscenely down the now stained sheets as he tried to reach for the _more_.

He couldn’t speak, only the harsh sound of panting as he raised his head, turning to look into his lover’s face pleadingly. His hand released from the clutched sheets, reaching out towards Wangji instead, gripping on his shoulder as he tried to pull him closer.

_Please_ , his eyes said. _I want you_ , his hand tightened on Wangji’s arm.

A rustle, and then he felt the blunt head of Wangji’s cock pressing against him. Wuxian sighed as he slid slowly in, the sweet stretch of Wangji’s cock against the rim, so smooth and slick after all his careful fingering. He couldn’t think anymore, his mind blank from pleasure, nonsense falling from his lips, mumbling against Wangji’s shoulder _so good, so good, Wangji, so good, move, ahh, so good, love you, love good, love you_ ….

His love unceasingly like a song as they rocked together, sweetly and tenderly over and over; his cries getting louder and louder, blurry sensations he barely registered, Wangji brushing his hair out of his eyes, his gaze full of passionate joy as their eyes met, their hands scrambled to reach, fingers entwined, Wangji’s teeth sinking on the juncture of his shoulder, his hips bearing down, harder and faster until he came -- exploding in lightness, he was a supernova, he was the sun, he was a star.

“ _Lan Zhan_ ,” He moaned, trying to collect himself as Wangji drove into him, seeking his own release. “ _Lan er ge ge_.” He whispered, twisting his hips down to grind on his lover. Wangji’s face tightened, WuXian leaned upwards to kiss his face. Kiss his brows, the tense line between his eyes, kiss his nose as Wangji fucked him. He felt open and relaxed after his own orgasm, he would give this, he could give this and then he felt Wangji’s arms tighten around him, holding him in an embraced as he pushed a final thrust, diving deep.

They laid like that for a while, wrapped up in each other languidly, limbs tangled until he didn’t know where they started or ended, only that they were together, bodies so close they could be one. He felt so safe, so warm, so secure that he never wanted to leave, fully satiated and boneless from their intimacy.

It was Wangji who got up first, gently and reluctantly leaving his side even as Wuxian whined at the loss. He went to the bathroom, cleaning them up with care. _Is the towel too hot?_ He had said, gently wiping the remnants of their lovemaking away. _Is the towel too rough? Let me know._ He had brought a basin too, so WuXian wouldn’t have to get up to wash his face before they slept. The sex was wonderful, but it was this care, this tender consideration that made him want to weep with joy and kiss Wangji over and over again.

“I’m fine, Lan Zhan.” Wuxian pressed his head against Wangji’s shoulder, stifling a yawn. He felt warm, happy.

“Sleepy?” Wangji asked, brushing his hair back. “We should sleep soon. It will get busier from tomorrow onwards.”

He tucked them in, drawing the covers over as he blew the candle out before wrapping his arms around Wuxian’s already sleeping form. Even while they slept, he didn’t want to let him go.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in centuries, maybe the first time ever since Lan An brought his bride home; for the first time since the founding of the Lan Sect, there was a riot of noise and colour in the Cloud Recesses.

Amongst the stark grey cliffs and dense fog trailed merry ribbons of red fluttering in the wind, vermillion wrapped on gnarled branches, crimson paper cutouts of happiness and fortune pressed on white and blue walls.

Look up! High, high above on alcoves and rooftops hung long crimson lanterns lit by the hundreds and thousands across the entire mountainside, like a thousand lights sparkling through the mist, a fairy cloud’s blessing so bright, it could be seen for miles, all the way down to Gusu as the villagers looked up in awe.

 _Ah_ , said the women gossiping by the water. _Have you heard? The second Lan master is getting married!_

It was tradition for the couple to pour tea for the wife’s family first before the husband’s, but as Wuxian had no living relatives, they had planned a much simpler wedding ceremony.

First, Wuxian would walk in his wedding robes from where he was staying temporarily at the disciples’ dormitory to the Lan Ancestral Hall. Wangji had protested at that. _It’s not customary,_ Wangji had argued, _for a bride to go unaccompanied, much less walk to his new home. At least, let Sizhui come with him._

 _No._ Lan Qiren had said, firm and unmoving. _Wei Wuxian will walk. He will walk alone._

 _Yes._ Wuxian agreed. Wangji looked at him with faint surprise. For once, Wuxian had sided with Lan Qiren. His lover’s face was in profile, his eyes startlingly clear as he regarded them both, his head held high despite the red flush on his cheek, the hands clenched on his lap.

Wuxian had no illusions about who he was. He might have been powerful, great even, but he was still the son of a servant. He had died, hated and vilified, a demonic cultivator that was the very opposite of Righteousness that Lan Sect preached. Jiang Fengmian might have treated him like a son, but he was still an orphan. He was poor, living on the streets eating scraps, his existence so meaningless that even the stray dogs knew it. They could bite him, bark at him without repercussion. Poverty even in Yiling, scraping pennies for potatoes even as men feared him. Hah! If only they knew how terrified he was in his cave, trying to be good even when there was no goodness left for him to have, a no one’s child.

There would be no dowry, no gifts, no gold or precious books to be exchanged. There would be no palanquin carrying him across the threshold of the Lan hall, nothing to signify his change in life, that he had left one home for another. There would be no tea for him and Lan Zhan to serve to his parents, wherever their tombstones may be. There was nothing he could bring that the Lan family didn’t already have. He knew his place.

He had made his peace with this a long time ago, when he felt his own unworthy self shrink under Lan Qiren’s judgement, his fingers ink-stained from books he had willingly copied since the first afternoon at the library. _One must be demonstrate a sense of dignity and refinement._ He had written, the words drilled from book to his hand. _Only then can one bring honor and glory to the Lan name._

He would walk with dignity. His feet would touch the flagstones, his silk slippers stained with grass, his wrists bare of adornment. He would walk, because that was all he could do for Wangji. He could only offer himself, his head held high because….

_Just be yourself, Wei Ying. Just being yourself, is enough._

Lan Zhan’s words. Wuxian kept those words close, echoing in his heart until it pushed away all doubts, until it expanded with so much that his heart felt overfull from WangJi’s love. He could offer only himself, and that would be enough because that was all Wangji wanted from him. And the ceremony after all, was merely a formality for others. The only thing that mattered was each other. Growing in love, loving together, together for all eternity.

Wangji would then take his hand, and present him to Lan Ancestral Hall. They would kneel before the eldest, Lan Qiren and pour him tea. Then again to Zewu-Jun, kneeling for more blessings.

And then the formal ceremony would begin. First, they would bow facing the gateway, towards the heavens and the earth. Then kneeling again, before Lan Wanji’s caretakers: the twin headstones of the parents that birthed him, his uncle who protected him, his brother who loved him. Finally to each other, hands clasped as they bowed to each other. Respect. Equality. Partners. Lovers.

They would be married, and the formalities would be over.

A simple ceremony, that’s all they had planned. Lan Qiren agreed to it, Zewu-Jun approved it. That’s all he could ask for. That’s all he could ever hope for. That’s all he could ever expect.

Except---

“WEI WU XIAN!” A familiar voice shouted angrily across from the gate. He was so loud, Wuxian could hear him even inside his room. “COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!”

 _Jiang Cheng!_ Jiang Cheng was here? What did he want now? Was he going to drag Wuxian down on his wedding day? That would be too appropriate, considering how he had stormed on Shijie’s engagement a life ago, fighting and making trouble. Well, whatever happened now, if Jiang Cheng wanted to fight he’ll get one soon enough, but he wouldn’t let the other man ruin Wangji’s wedding.

“Zewu-Jun! Hanguang-Jun! Senior Wei!” A group of disciples, along with Jingyi and Sizhui came running towards the hall. “Sect Leader Jiang and his men are outside! What should we do?”

“It’s alright, it’s alright - make way! Make way!” Wuxian shoved past them, still dressed in his usual dark grey robes. “I’m here! What do you want now? You brought so many people? Even women? Ahhhh, Jiang Cheng, maybe you don’t remember this but Cloud Recesses doesn’t allow that kind of excessive indul-”

“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng turned red with embarrassment. “How can you be so shameless?! How can you say such stupid things today?!”

“What’s it to you? Anyway it’s my wedding day, I can say whatever I like!” Wuxian crossed his arms defiantly.

“You-!!” Jiang Cheng’s face darkened with anger. “You’re always like this! You never think about others! You don’t ever ask even when--” He stopped abruptly, mouth pressed in a thin cruel line. “Really, when you scolded Jin Ling that he had no mother to teach him, are you sure you weren’t talking about yourself?”

Wuxian stumbled back hurt, as though the words had dealt a physical blow.

“Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng seemed to realize what he had just said, his eyes widening. “I’m-”

“I get it now!” Wuxian laughed bitterly. “Is this what you wanted? Revenge? Retribution after what happened? Well if it’s a fight you want, then a fight you’ll get from me!”

He changed his stance, the flute near his lips, his eyes wild and filled with an odd pain. _Even today… even today, I can’t escape who I was can I? After all, this is all I can expect, all I deserve._

“What is this commotion? Why is everyone congregating at the gate?” A voice filled with rich warmth called out, quick steps descending towards them. “What is going on?”

“Zewu-Jun! Sect Leader Lan!” The disciples clustered around him, like a flock of worried birds, their words tumbling over each other until Sizhui stepped forward. “Sect leader Jiang appeared at the gates of Cloud Recesses demanding for Senior Wei’s presence. They exchanged some heated words, and I’m afraid they might be fighting.”

“Thank you.” Lan Xichen turned towards Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. “Sect leader Jiang was invited to the wedding, I doubt he intends to disrupt it. Isn’t that so Jiang Wanyin?” Xichen smiled genially at the violet-robed man.

“Of course not.” Jiang Cheng said stiffly. “Wei Wuxian is the eldest disciple of the Yunmeng clan, as well as my foster-sibling. We have come-” He waved to the women in his retinue. “We have come to assist with the bride’s preparations. It would be inappropriate for him to be wed without proper ceremony.”

Wuxian looked at Jiang Cheng with his mouth agape, trying to process what had just transpired. “Jiang Cheng…..” He said slowly. “You didn’t come here to fight me?”

“No.” Jiang Cheng averted his eyes, standing awkwardly to the side. “You’re still from the Jiang sect.”

“I wasn’t taken off the disciples’ register after Yiling?” WuXian’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“We were so busy with rebuilding Lotus Pier that we never got round to doing it and anyway-!” The flush on Jiang Cheng’s cheek turned brighter and redder, spreading down past his jaw down his neck. “Anyway! Don’t you have a wedding to prepare? What are you doing out here in your dirty clothes? Have you even bathed and purified yourself? Ugh, decades may pass and you’re still as uncouth as ever.”

“How is that my fault? I woke up to you shouting --”

“Master Wanyin.” Lan Xichen cut in smoothly, preventing them from starting a second argument. “Senior Wei has been staying at the Lan disciple dormitory, which I presume is insufficient for your needs….?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, arms crossed. WuXian recognized that particular expression. He’d seen before, on Wangji’s face when they faced Lan Qiren. A strange stubborn protectiveness, and suddenly a warmth surged in his heart; memories he had deliberately forgotten resurfacing: two boys playing in the water, two men pledging friendship, two dreamers for glory, Twin Heroes of Yunmeng.

The dream never happened, twisting into a nightmare of resentment and hate but he had never forgotten -- how could he forget? The boy who protected him from the dogs, the friend that played kites with him, the disciple that trained with him, the brother -- _his_ brother’s brusque kindness, Jiang Cheng’s kindness.

His heart felt too full for words, Wuxian covered his eyes. A sob caught in his throat too sharply, but the bitterness he had expected disappeared into a gladness so bright it hurt, and somehow, he could only smile. _Ah…. What a strange feeling…. Perhaps, this is also a kind of happiness?_

“Of course.” Lan Xichen sighed, but the gentle smile never left his face. “It hasn’t been used for a long time, but we do have an available cottage, if you are willing to use.” He gestured them in, past the gates and towards the western edge of Cloud Recesses, where a small house stood with gentians swaying softly in the breeze.

 _Isn’t this…!_ Wuxian stood before the place, staring wide-eyed the the blue flowers shining brightly, their starry heads blue and gold against the white walls. _Isn’t this---_

“This was our mother’s home.” Lan Xichen said, choosing each word with care. “I think Wangji would want you to use it, for today.” He chuckled a little, a wistful note creeping into his voice. “Perhaps-” His tone softer. “Perhaps I would like you to use it too. It would be wonderful, to bring something back into this empty place.”

“This would be adequate, Zewu-Jun.” Jiang Cheng said, as he looked inside approvingly. “Thank you for accommodating us on such a short notice.”

“No, it’s my pleasure. I will let Wangji know about the change of arrangements.” Lan Xichen said. “I’m glad that his family came.” With that, he turned and left.

“All right! Finally!” Jiang Cheng said, sounding aggrieved. “You--! Get inside now!” He walked over to where Wuxian stood, still half in shock and dragged the other man towards the cottage.

“Jin Ling! Where are you boy? Get the waiting ladies inside too, there’s lots of work to do and we have only a few hours left.” He tsked, brushing some unseen dirt off WuXian’s shoulder and fussing over his hair. “Look at you now, you know what they’re saying down in Gusu? Second Master Lan’s bride is prettier than a girl, a great beauty! If only the townsfolk can see what a mess you are now, ugh, have you even--”

“Jiang Cheng.” WuXian caught his hand. “Why are you here? I don’t understand… Don’t you dislike me?”

For a moment, there was silence. Quiet in the room, quiet in the trees, even the birds seemed to have stopped chirping as they stood. The only sound he seemed to hear was his own heartbeat, pounding in his chest like a tense drum, wound tighter and harder until --

“You’re the eldest disciple of Yunmeng Jiang.” Jiang Cheng said at last. “It’ll be a shame on our sect, if you were to be married off with nothing, unaccompanied. What would the other cultivation clans think? We have more pride than that.”

“Oh.”

“Besides,” Jiang Cheng added, his voice softer now. “Shijie would be sad.”

“Jiang Cheng, I---”

“No! Let me finish.” Jiang Cheng’s voice grew in strength. “My father and mother was killed by the Wen Clan, my home destroyed, then Shijie’s death--” He paused, licking his lips. “ _Shijie’s death was an_ _accident_.” His voice was harsh but his eyes were bright, too bright, too fierce with unshed tears as he clasped Wuxian’s hand, not letting him go.

“Then when you died, my entire family was gone.” Grief stole over his features, he blinked the wetness behind his eyes away.

“You never said anything. Not about the golden core, not about at the Burial Mound, not about the suffering you endured….” Jiang Cheng shuddered visibly. “Even your wedding, it was Hanguang-Jun who had to send me the invitation.”

“...How did you know?” WuXian asked. “Wangji said he sent it under my name.”

Jiang Cheng shot him a look. “I know it’s been a while, but I still remember when you were studying.” He said dryly. “There’s no way that your calligraphy could be that precisely elegant.”

“Wei Wuxian…” He said tentatively, his hand clasped on his shoulder. Wuxian looked at him in surprise, he couldn’t remember the last time Jiang Cheng had called his name without his anger. So many years, so much resentment that had festered, that it was shocking to discover how much of his boyhood friend was still there. “Wei Wuxian, I’ve never hated you.”

“You always think you’re alone. Even though you’re so shameless, you had too much pride to ask for help but did you ever think, about how much--” Jiang Cheng paused, his other hand pressed over his chest, over his heart. His voice trembled as he spoke: “Did you ever think about how much your brother would worry about you?”

“I’m sorry.” Words he never wanted to say, now poured out with deep regret. “I-” Tears filled Wuxian’s eyes. He couldn’t tell who moved first, only that they reached out to each other, arms around his shoulders, pulled into a forceful hug. “I’m sorry, my brother.”

They stood there in the quiet eaves of the house, the gentians swaying beneath their feet until he felt himself settle, as though another piece of his life, another piece of his past had returned at long last, his heart mending slowly together like a puzzle sliding softly into place.

“Right!” Jiang Cheng said first, as they separated. “Okay, enough of this. Go, go now.” He shoo’ed WuXian into the house. “Right, A-Li and A-Qi” He nodded at the two women who came forward, armed with a multitude of brushes, combs and towels. “They can take it from here.”

“Wait! Jiang Cheng!” Wuxian reached out as the women descended on him. “Ow! Don’t pull that! Ahhhh-- help save me please….. Ahhhhh!!!! Jiang Cheng!! This is torture!! I knew it, you just wanted revenge on me!”

“If I wanted revenge on you, I would have left your idiot ass and let Lan Qiren take over. See how you’ll like that!” Jiang Cheng retorted as Wuxian was unceremoniously shoved into the bridal room.

Sounds of splashing and water being poured as he stood outside, ranting as Wuxian whined through the door. “Ahhhhh! Ouch ouch… stop pulling! That hurts!! Why do you hurt me so much!!  Ahhh… this is too much misery, I can’t take it anymore, please pity this poor fellow…”

“Stop complaining, it’s your stupid fault for not doing this properly. Really, when I heard that you were planning to walk over to the Lan Ancestral Hall, I couldn’t believe it. Are you really so pathetic? Do you have no shame at all? Come on!” He snorted. “You’re lucky Lan Wangji is so besotted with you, were you planning to turn up at their family hall dressed in your usual rags and unkempt hair?

“ _One must be poised, her face full of calm for serenity is a mark of respect_.” Wuxian quoted from the bathroom. “ _Reflect before you act_.”

“I’m surprised you can recite the Filial Admonitions.” Jiang Cheng raised his eyebrow. “Did you finally get body-snatched? Should I hit you with Zidian to check?”

“Ahhh- Don't hit me!! Of course not! Old Man Qiren put me up to it.” Wuxian deepened his voice, mimicking the elder Lan. “ _These are the rules of conduct and virtues expected from a wife. Memorize them.”_ Wuxian sounded aghast. “That’s what he said! Can you imagine!? And then he dropped a whole pile of books on me!”

“What did you think? And I still remember you, what, talking about not joining Lan Sect or marrying into the Lan family and look at you now, tied to Hanguang-Jun’s hand.” Jiang Cheng snorted. “Really you only have yourself to blame.”

“Jiang Cheng ! How heartless! How can you -- ow!” More splashing sounds, a squawk and something being dropped on the floor. “Young Master Wei, please stay still.” A young women’s voice floated, her voice unyielding. “It will hurt less if you keep still.”

“Ah, how much suffering do I need more in my life!” Wuxian wailed. “Really, I should have eloped instead!”

“Oh come on.” Jiang Cheng pulled himself away from where he was standing, walking towards bridal room. “Are you decent yet? We’re going to be late if we don’t start soon.”

“Fine, fine come in! But you can’t laugh okay?”

Wuxian had changed into his wedding attire. His inner robe made up of layers of thin red silk from bright crimson to deep burgundy overlapping into soft gradient, the dark wine red sash tied across the center, emphasizing his slim waist. His outer coat was of a heavier weight, a pure vermillion woven silk embroidered richly in gold, phoenixes rising from the hem and sleeves, entwined with dragons dancing along the collar, flying across his chest and up his shoulders. When he moved, he seemed to be made of flame.

The transformation was striking. Wuxian never cared about his appearance. Even though he was vain and self-aware of his own handsomeness, he wore his looks carelessly, the wildness being part of his charm. The women had done an excellent job, carefully darkening his long lashes into seductive fullness, the rouge on his lips turned into a sensual promise.

And yet even with the makeup on, it didn’t detract from mischievous twinkle in his eyes, or the easy warmth of his smile. His hair, normally a tangled mess, now fell luxuriously down his shoulders, each layered curl fragrant and glossy with camellia oil, the black locks tied simply with a delicate matching red ribbon that entwined.

With the shifting silks fluttering around him vibrantly, he was a graceful figure glowing in red and gold. He was a phoenix, reborn from flames of love. He was the flame that drew others near. He was incandescently beautiful.

“Wei Wuxian….” Jiang Cheng sat down next to him, across on the divian. WuXian looked at him bemused, a question in his eyes. “Do I look silly, you think?” Wuxian asked nervously, fiddling with his sleeves.

In Jiang Cheng’s trembling hands, he clutched at the translucent red veil. It was hard to imagine, that this man before him, dressed in red was his friend, his brother ---  this was him. It was hard to shake off a past image, like a mirage that rose before him, of another time, another red veil that he had also held in his hands and Yanli before him, in the same way, the red robes she wore on her own wedding day. She had looked at him, very much the same way. _Am I being silly, A-Cheng?_ She had said that, with the same anxiety. She had been beautiful too.

“Shijie…. Shijie would have been would have loved to see you like this.”  Jiang Cheng looked at him deeply. “She would have given you advice, but I….I can’t do that.” He looked away.

“No, she would have scolded me, scolded us.” Wuxian reached out, folding his hand into his Jiang Cheng’s. “She would have scolded us for taking so long. Scolded you for being stubborn. Scolded me for being foolish and prideful when I always had a brother I neglected for so long.”

“Put on the veil for me, Jiang Cheng.” Wuxian said, his voice full of emotion. “Today…. Today, your brother is getting married.”

With that, Jiang Cheng took the red silk in his hands, letting it fall over WuXian’s face, covering him. He grasped WuXian’s shoulders, embracing him. “You look beautiful.” He whispered. “Lan Wangji should be so grateful to have you. Be happy, my brother.”

 

* * *

 

Outside music played delightfully, gentle strings of guqin and xiao blown loudly announcing the approach of the Lan family. Jin Ling was tasked with the role of guarding the bride’s door, but after single look from Wangji’s eyes, he had stammered his apologies and stepped aside to let them enter.

“Don’t take it to heart.” Lan Xichen said to shell-shocked Jin Ling. “It’s just that Wangji has been waiting for a long time.” He patted the younger man comfortingly. “Why don’t you join Sizhui and Jingyi at the main hall? We will be proceeding there after Wangji collects his bride.”

Jin Ling took one last look at Lan Wangji’s expression, and decided that it wasn’t worth dying in Cloud Recesses for something like this. This wasn’t even a night hunt! His life was worth more than whatever wild demon had seized in the glint in Hanguang-Jun’s eyes! Who knew that the normally calm and serious man could even look like that? Well, better Senior Wei than him, he wouldn’t want to be recipient of that look!

It was a little unorthodox perhaps, but was perhaps for the best that no one caused too much trouble.

“I am here.” Wangji said. “Please, let us pay our respects to you.”

Two purple cushions laid on the ground, round porcelain cups filled with sweet date tea. Wangji took Wuxian’s hand as they knelt before Jiang Cheng.

Wuxian poured first. “Sect Leader Jiang, please accept my tea.” Wuxian was proud, the saucer didn’t even shake as it was exchanged, he didn’t spill a single drop despite the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Hmph.” Jiang Cheng took a sip. “Really when you first came you were such a troublemaker. Even now, you’re still a troublemaker. Luckily for Yunmeng Jiang, you’re not going to be our trouble anymore.” He jerked his head in the direction of Wangji, his gaze softening. “Don’t make the same mistakes again, Wei Wuxian. If you need help, you will always have us with you.”

“A gift, from Yunmeng Jiang to you. You probably don’t need one of these anymore since the Lan Sect will probably have their own but since you’re going to continue your cultivation studies-”

Jiang Cheng pulled out a silver bell, the shining surface engraved with a familiar nine-petal lotus motif, the purple tassel knotted at the base. He shook it gently, a clear ringing sound resounding beautifully, deep and round. “The silver has been imbued with special resonance, to help protect and calm the mind.”

Wuxian cradled the gift in his hands, head bowed. There was too much to say, too much to feel that perhaps, he could really say nothing at all except a simple heartfelt: _Thank you_.

Jiang Cheng hesitated, then gently placed his hand on Wuxian’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s supposed to be a joyous occasion.” He looked away, blinking back his own tears. “If you cry now, you’ll ruin all the work we put into making you beautiful. Don’t waste all our effort!”

Wuxian laughed, although his voice cracked over the last note. “Really! If that’s the case, fine! For today I promise not to embarrass you.”

“There’s a second gift. This one is from me.” He picked up a small box next to him. It was a small, simple box, plainly made. It looked old, with the nine-petaled lotus symbol etched on its worn surface.

“Can I open it?” Wuxian took the gift carefully.

Jiang Cheng nodded.

Inside contained a single fresh lotus seed, vividly green nestled between deep purple silk.

“One seed?” Wuxian said, his laughter bright and golden. “Really Jiang Cheng, I’ll need a lot more seeds in order feel full!”

“It’s not for eating, stupid.” Jiang Cheng looked scornfully at him. “It’s special, so don’t lose it.”

“What am I supposed to do if I’m not going to eat it?”

“Keep it safe until after the ceremony, I’ll show you later.”  Jiang Cheng said, before turning towards Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin.” Wangji poured him tea with perfect posture. “Please accept my tea.”

Jiang Cheng accepted the tea graciously. “We have gifts for the Lan Clan as well, for my foster-brother’s dowry.” He gestured to the fragrant teak case behind him, filled with precious treasures. “Please take care of him from now on.”

“I will.”

And with that, Wangji took Wuxian’s hand, leading him out of the cottage towards the Lan Ancestral Hall. For a brief moment, Wuxian looked back and saw the faces of the people who loved him as their own, their purple robes as familiar to him as home, the lotus motif blossoming outwards into the gentle love that scented his boyhood. He had been an orphan, but then Jiang Fengmian had taken him home, had given him a sister, a brother and somewhere he could once call his family.

Jiang Cheng’s words coming back to him:  
_Shijie would have wanted to see you. Shijie would’ve said you looked beautiful._

“How are we going to get across towards the Lan Ancestral Hall though? Jiang Cheng, did you really bring a palanquin for me?” Wuxian teased lightly. “How did you know I always wanted to ride on a chariot made of flying swords?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Jiang Cheng said. “With the short notice, we could only acquire a wedding carpet and parasol.”

“I will take care of him.” Wangji said, stepping between them. "Jiang Wanyin, if you will accompany us with the wedding parasol.”

Wangji slid his arms around Wuxian’s waist, scooping him up effortlessly in his arms as he summoned Bichen.

“Wait! Wangji, hold on I need to make sure the veil stays on.” Wuxian scrambled, twisting in Wangji’s arms as he tried to adjust it.

Jiang Cheng sighed, leaning over to help him affix it properly. “There, it should stay on now.” Jiang Cheng said, satisfied.

He opened the wedding parasol to shield WuXian, and they rose together, an exquisite vision: drifting shades of deep violet and brilliant crimson fluttering in the dense white clouded skies, the grey-green mountain rising up to a peak, solid and strong with rock and pine as they flew on their gleaming swords, the bright red parasol with its dazzling gold tassels flashing in the wind, Wuxian’s head upon Wanji’s shoulder; the shifting winds revealing a glimpse of skin under the red veil that flowed around him like a fiery halo that trailed behind.

Gently, gently, they descended outside the Lan Ancestral Hall. Wanji held him with care. Careful not to mess his veil or robes, careful to hold him close, lest his feet touch the ground. There was no outward change in Wangji’s expression, but in this position, Wuxian could hear how loud his lover’s heart sounded, beating happiness surging forward with each rhythmic pulse, pounding higher and harder into a fierce joy as he stepped over the threshold with his new bride.

Wangji did not let down. He strode forward with Wuxian’s arms wrapped around his neck, cradled in his arms, head held high and his gaze clear, towards the seated elders. These cushions were the purest white, with the lightest frost of blue looped in the Lan colours. They knelt for the second time, pouring the sweet date tea for Lan Qiren first, then for Zewu-Jun.

“Welcome to our family, Wei WuXian.” Lan Xichen said kindly, as he drank his tea. “I hope, you will honor me by calling me your brother-in-law.”

“Yes…” Wuxian said, feeling suddenly shy. “ _Xichen-da-fu._ ” The words felt strange and new in his mouth, but not unpleasant.

Now blessed albeit reluctantly from Lan Qiren, WangJi and Wuxian rose together, ready to exchange their vows when a voice suddenly called out from the side.

“WAIT! WAIT! PLEASE! WAIT!” A murmur broke out amongst the disciples, Sizhui apologizing profusely as he pushed himself forward.  
  
“Lan Sizhui! What is going on?!” Lan QiRen barked. “Why are you interrupting the ceremony? Answer yourself!”

“Please sir.” Sizhui knelt on the cushion, his palms open and offered upwards. “I know this is sudden but I-” His hand rose over his chest, looking pleadingly at them. “I would like to pay my respects, especially after recovering my memories.” His eyes shone with sincerity. “Please.”

The old man seemed taken aback by the purity in Sizhui’s gaze. “Very well, more tea then.”

“Please sit, Hanguang-Jun, Master Wei.” SiZhui gestured to the ornate wooden chairs as he knelt on the very same cushions. He was the very image of a Lan, his posture upright, his robes spread gracefully white and blue around him, his expression serene and poised as he elegantly poured his first cup of tea.

“To Hanguang-Jun, thank you for taking me in, for your care. I offer this tea to you not just as a disciple, but also as one who humbly holds you as a dear mentor. Congratulations and blessings on your union.”

“I accept, Sizhui.” WangJi took his tea gravely, with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “You have always done the Lan --- No, you have always done _me_ proud.”  
  
He drank his tea in a single swallow, carefully placing it back into Sizhui’s hands.

Sizhui poured a second cup. There was a minuscule shiver in his hands, betraying his nervousness. Despite the elegance of his movements, Wuxian could feel him shaking as he offered the second cup.

“Senior Wei-” Sizhui bit his lips nervously. “No…. _Father._ ”  
  
His words were no louder than a whisper, but it raced through the room like wildfire.  
  
“ _Your A-Yuan is here._ ”

He had been holding back his tears all day from Jiang Cheng and Wangji.  
And now, with those words, Wuxian finally wept.

He took the tea from Sizhui’s hands, his A-Yuan’s hands. The small boy hands which were once round and chubby, chasing butterflies now slim and grown and skilled. Through his tears, he saw the boy he once buried in earth as a joke, now well and truly sprouted into a fine young man.

For the first time, he regretted the years in absence; all the firsts he missed - all the joys and sorrows that his child must have experienced. Even so, Wuxian did not regret taking him at all. After all, during those years while he was gone, he knew without a doubt that Wangji would have loved and cared Ah-Yuan with the same devotion.

How bitter the tea tasted! The tears flowing freely down his cheeks and yet it had an incomparable sweetness, the shining life he had saved, the last of the Wen Clan that he had nurtured in the sincere belief that one could rise above their circumstances, rise above their name, their reputation and become whoever they could be. His baby A-Yuan now grown Sizhui.

“This is the sweetest tea I have ever tasted.” Wuxian drank it all, not quite able to keep his voice from breaking. “Ah Yuan ---” He gave in to his impulse, leaning forward to hug the young man, uncaring about his appearance.

“I am so, so, _so_ happy. So happy.” Wuxian smiled through his tears, palm pressed against the side of Sizhui’s face. “So happy, so proud of who you’ve become. I am so happy, so proud to be your father.”

Wuxian hugged him again, and then he felt Sizhui’s arms wrap around him in return and it was as though the world had shifted, somewhere in the bleak despair of his past, in the dark days that haunted his memories.

Something inside him had shifted towards the light. He could move on now, he _would_ move on now. He was no longer tied to the past, and he won’t let it cling on to him any longer. He was lucky enough to be given a second chance, and now he would seize this chance to see where he could go, what he could be as himself, a second chance at being Wei Wuxian.

He felt Wangji’s hand on his shoulder, sure and steady as though he was imbued with the power of the mountains itself, where the Cloud Recesses resided. Wangji held them, as they clutched each other, their tears drying and fading into the softest delight.

 _My family._ Wuxian realized with a start. _I have made my own family._

“Come now, Wei Ying.” Wangji called to him, holding his hand tenderly. “It’s time to finish the ceremony.”

Wangji led them towards the altar. They bowed to to the heavens, to the earth in gratitude. They bowed to the elders, to his family tablets. They bowed to each other, deep and low. Throughout the entire ceremony, they held hands. Never leaving each other, fingers entwined tightly as they gripped, hand-in-hand. Heaven or earth, social status or family name, nothing and no one would ever be able to separate them again, not even themselves. This was a beginning, to the rest of their entire lives.

At last, Wangji turned and lifted the veil to reveal Wuxian’s smiling face.

“Hooray! Hooray!” The disciples cheered, tossing rice and peanuts at the newlyweds. Even Jin Ling had deigned to join in the festivities, popping crackers loudly with a bang! The crowd moved outside as tables were laid for a banquet, normally quiet Cloud Recess now filled with laughter and cheer. Wuxian and Wangji made rounds chatting to their guests when WuXian spotted Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Cheng!” He waved. “Come, meet my husband.” WuXian said gleefully. He couldn’t seem to stop saying that, even though most people knew they were together before they married. Still, having a husband was a novelty, so why not say it as much as possible while it was still new?

“I was looking for you actually.” Jiang Cheng said. “Do you still have the seed?”

“Yes, why?” Wuxian pulled it out from his sleeve.

“You should plant it, somewhere here.” Jiang Cheng said with a hint of urgency. “Before the sun sets, just find a place you like and plant it.”

“Really now… Lan Zhan! Did you listen to what Jiang Cheng said? They say I’m strange, but sometimes I wonder which one of us is more strange.” Wuxian shook his head. “Fine, I’ll do it. I guess this spot is as good as any.”

He shrugged, digging a hole in the soft earth with his foot before dropping the seed in.

Like a dream, the seed grew into flower before their very eyes, its petal unfolding into a single,  perfect flower with roots that that pooled in its own clear water. For a moment, it stood still and magical and in a blink of an eye, it spread and spread and spread, racing over the mossy grounds, flowing over grassy lawns and down the rocky cliffs to the very precipice until it fell over the edge, a fantasy of pink and green, the flowers’ water spilling over in a glittering waterfall. A thousand verdant stems, emerald bright and glowing green sprung forth in a lake as blue as the sky above.

The pink buds bowed heavily down like a maiden’s blushing head until it lifted upwards towards the heavens though in gentle greeting. They swayed for a moment and then together, as though summoned by a celestial blessing, the lotus flowers by hundreds upon thousands bloomed open all at once. A million petals, clustered then flowered open; their sweet fragrance wafting across, blending into the dense white clouds in an exquisite harmony.

“See? Didn’t I tell you? Magic seeds!” Jiang Cheng ribbed his elbow against Wuxian’s shocked expression. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t eat it now? This should be enough even to feed a bottomless pit like you-- What? You have nothing to say now? What happen to that famous mouth of yours?”

“Jiang Cheng….” WuXian turned towards him, his eyes full of tears. “I-” Without warning, he pulled the other man into a fierce embrace.

“Stop crying! What would other people say, that I made the bride cry on his wedding day…” Jiang Cheng said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Look now, you can’t be sad anymore, you will always have a part of Yunmeng even in your new home, your new life…… be happy, my brother.”

“This...This is the best gift anyone could have given me.” Wuxian said, the vision of lotuses blurring through his tears. He blinked them away, wiping them his sleeve as he saw Jiang Cheng do the same.

They stood, shoulder to shoulder, two brothers looking out towards the flowers, their memories overflowing into new ones, pink lotus clouds dancing in an ethereal lake in the mountain’s sky.

 

* * *

 

Not too far away, a familiar elder stared at the lotuses.

“Preposterous! Look at this garish display!” Lan Qiren muttered under his breath, grumbling as he strolled by the newly formed lake. “Just look at this Xichen, in my generation we would have never allowed something so absurd--”

Lan Xichen laughed, his arm slipping under his uncle’s elbow to aid him. “It’s a spectacle for sure, and probably not something I should condone as Sect Leader but-” He smiled, an affectionate warmth colouring his smile as he gazed at the riotous flowers that had overtaken part of Cloud Recesses.

“But, Master Qiren, isn’t this just too beautiful?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WuXian calls ZeWu-Jun: XiChen-大夫 as his brother-in-law. Honestly I ran through so many variations of this, in the end I settled for something simpler to show how XiChen accepts him into the family.
> 
> Title comes from a famous poem by Wang Wei:
> 
> 红豆生南国，(Red seeds from southern lands)  
> 春来发几枝。(In spring bears a few branches)  
> 愿君多采撷，(A heartfelt youth picks as many as he can)  
> 此物最相思。(Precious things that brings the most yearning)
> 
> Thank you for reading! This is my first fic into MDZS ^^ I hope you enjoyed it. Much thanks to 亲爱 for proofing. Comments, kudos, questions welcome~ hit me up on twitter at [@iskendaris](https://twitter.com/iskendaris)


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